I saw an image online a few weeks ago that keeps popping back into my head.
It’s a photo of a white sheet of A4, sellotaped to a lamp post. The printed text on the paper reads: “Think of all the people you haven’t met yet that you’re going to love and that are going to love you back.”
Grammatically painful? Yes. Veering dangerously close to saccharine “live, laugh, love” territory? Also yes. But I think there’s something in it.
This is the time of year when we get all retrospective and introspective with the hope of gaining some perspective. A gaggle of ‘spectives.
Twelve months ago, my life didn’t look all that different. I was living in the same place as I am now, working in journalism, hunching over a whirring laptop from home.
I had been at the same company, operating within virtually the same team, for nearly seven years. I was so comfortable, so bedded-in – more than I knew.
I had gone from being a trembling intern to the person who knew all the answers – or, perhaps more accurately, the person who knew exactly who to ask for the specific answer required.
Saying goodbye wasn’t easy
I had no intention of leaving that job when I did. Some people fantasise regularly about handing their notice in – I’ve done it myself in the past. But never in that job.
My line manager and editor then was the person who gave me my first chance in this industry, and many more after that. He and I had been through a lot of good times and tumultuous change together by the time I told him I was moving on.
This is very LinkedIn of me, isn’t it? pic.twitter.com/CFGiIPCJ7b
— Alex Watson (@justthemedicine) March 24, 2021
I didn’t know what to say, because I’d never thought about it, let alone taken pleasure from the idea of quitting on him. That’s a sign of a good boss, I think.
He was happy for me. That’s a sign of a good boss, too.
Telling the rest of the team was even harder and more emotional. We were a small group, and tightly knit. Especially after working through a chunk of the pandemic together, they felt like family.
My supporting cast deserve plenty of awards
Looking back, that’s probably why I never seriously considered leaving for so many years. My life felt full and complete, with a busy job and surrounded by so many wonderful people, both in my personal and professional worlds. Roll the end credits.
Of course, life doesn’t generally end at 30. And, though it doesn’t look much different, my life has changed substantially since December 31 2020.
Chance played a huge part in how my life changed this year, yet the bonds I’ve forged with new people make me feel like I was meant to meet them; like it was a foregone conclusion
What’s funny to think about today is that I very nearly didn’t apply for this dream job I’ve got now. I wouldn’t be writing these words for you to read if it hadn’t been for one of those wonderful people in my life firmly encouraging me to dust off my CV.
In fact, when I look back on the achievements I’m proud of this year, all I see are the people who motivated me to get there. The supporting cast. And, do you know what? I met a lot of them over the last 12 months.
Chance played a huge part in how my life changed this year, yet the bonds I’ve forged with new people – even over the internet, when we couldn’t be in a newsroom together – make me feel like I was meant to meet them; like it was a foregone conclusion.
I still believe people are good
Considering 2021 essentially kicked off with the United States Capitol attack, I think it’s safe to say we’ve seen some horrifying examples of the worst humanity has to offer this year. And, after we made it a land of milk and honey in our minds to get us through 2020, 2021 was never going to live up to our sky-high expectations.
It’s been difficult, stressful and depressing on the whole, and I haven’t experienced anything close to the hardship others have. I’d like to put 2021 to bed at Hogmanay, for the most part.
What I want to take away from this year, though, are the many times I was reminded that people are, for the most part, kind and good.
From baristas who made the extra effort to chat on grim lockdown mornings, to colleagues who barely knew me, yet held me up on the hardest of work days – people were the flashes of bright sunlight during an otherwise cloudy slog.
Sometimes we feel at our most alone and stuck around Christmas and New Year, when it seems like everyone else is very much together and on track. Just know, if you ever feel that way, that you are worthy of love. And that there are people out there you haven’t met yet who you will love, and who will love you back.
Don’t let yourself get too comfortable. Turn the page and find them.
Alex Watson is the Head of Comment for The Press & Journal and is ready for a new year
